


Linchpin

by Sareki



Series: Canon Consistent P/T Universe [15]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s01e10 Prime Factors, Episode: s02e21 Deadlock, Episode: s04e15 Hunters, Episode: s05e09 Thirty Days, Episode: s07e18 Human Error, Episode: s07e21 Friendship One, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sareki/pseuds/Sareki
Summary: B’Elanna Torres and Joe Carey, through the years.





	1. Prime Factors

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks, as always, to Capt Acorn. She gave me the prompt “a Joe and B’Elanna story” and then held my hand the whole way. A girl couldn’t ask for a better writing partner. Many thanks as well to Photogirl1890, one of the best copy editors out there!

B’Elanna couldn’t stop reliving it.

_I want you to know how very deeply you have disappointed me._

Each time her body reacted just as it had in that moment: when Janeway, her voice thick with anger, spat the words. The rush of adrenaline, the itch to fight or run. The edges of the world greyed out, and all that was left were those cold blue eyes.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she reopened them, the image of the ready room had evaporated, replaced by Engineering. The murmurs of her engineers wafting from the lower level, the smell of plasma and duranium. She stared into the warp core. The blue and purple hues ebbing and flowing with the surges from the primary reaction matrix normally calmed her, but the gnawing in the pit of her stomach did not abate.

_Disappointed._

The last time she’d felt like this was after _Dreadnaught_. Thinking again of Chakotay’s damn, soft voice, telling her she’d hurt him, added a new knot to the many Janeway had put there.

“Lieutenant?”

B’Elanna jumped at Carey’s voice, unaware that she was no longer alone on the upper level. She didn’t turn, unwilling to face her fellow conspirator. Had this been a game to him? Had he talked her into it so that Janeway would see the error of her ways and make him the chief engineer?

She dug her fingernails into her thighs. “Yes?”

“I…” When his voice died away, B’Elanna finally turned. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” His eyes were soft -- they didn’t bore into her as the last set of blue eyes had. “For whatever trouble you’re in. I shouldn’t have--”

She cut him off. “There’s no need, Lieutenant. I was the senior officer, I should have put a stop to it.”

“No, I...” He looked at the floor for a moment. “Permission to speak freely?”

No one had ever asked her that before. She shrugged.

“When you became chief engineer, you asked me to help you. And instead, I talked you into violating every protocol in the book. Because I wanted to get home.”

Home. That place, seventy thousand light years away, where the Maquis were fighting. Where her friends were dying.

Where Carey’s children were growing up without a father.

“You were only supposed to be gone three weeks, weren't you?”

Carey’s boots attracted his full attention. “Yeah. Temporary assignment. Then back home to Mars in time for my youngest’s first day of kindergarten. Anyway.” He cleared his throat, and with it thoughts of home. “I need you to know, I will never steer you wrong again. You have my word.”

There was no deception in his voice. One of the knots in B’Elanna’s stomach eased. “I’ll hold you to it.”


	2. Deadlock

Lying on the metal grating of the Jefferies tube, B’Elanna cradled her head in her arms and waited for Carey to return with a phase decoupler. There was probably something more productive she could be doing, but she couldn’t think of what it was.

She’d been given a bunk in (non-functional) Holodeck One, but had yet to retire to it, preferring to catch a few moments of rest in her office. There was just so much work to be done. Until she managed to do something about the hull breach on Deck Fifteen, they couldn’t even think of going to warp -- not that it was really an option at the moment, since _both_ warp coils were still fused, and…

 _Stop_.

One doable task at a time… and right now that doable task was realigning this plasma coupling. Her eyes closed, she focused her mind on the first step: removing the auxiliary plasma junction.

“Lieutenant?”

B’Elanna started awake. Had Carey noticed that she’d drifted off? Probably, there wasn’t much else one does curled in a ball in a Jefferies tube. “Yes.” She tucked a lock of greasy hair behind her ear as she righted herself. “Give me that decoupler.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of metal scraping against metal filling the tube.

She’d never fell asleep like that before. Maybe she should try to get a solid six hours. After she finished this job, she’d go to her bunk. But what about the ion stabilization matrix on Deck Fourteen? Maybe she could have Nicoletti take care of that, but it was so persnickety…

“You know, I once fell asleep in a coolant conduit.”

Carey’s words derailed her thoughts. “How?” A coolant conduit was cramped even for B’Elanna, maybe a half a meter in diameter.

Never pausing his work, he told her the story. On his first posting, there’d been a series of mechanical failures that had kept the engineering crew running around the clock. On day five of this, he’d been ordered to decontaminate the conduit. “I nodded off after an hour or so of that. Luckily, my friend found me, rather than my CO -- so my only punishment was a very stiff neck.”

B’Elanna grinned, the image of Carey erasing any lingering embarrassment. “Makes the Jefferies tubes sound downright comfortable. I still don’t know how you got in there.”

“I may have put on a few kilos since then. Speaking of which.” He turned to the case he’d brought back from Engineering. “Neelix was passing out rations, so I grabbed us a couple.”

“Thanks, I think.” B’Elanna handled the foil bar like it might try to bite her.

“Hey, I got the blueberry ones. The best kind.”

“How can you say that? The peanut butter ones are the least repulsive.”

Carey’s jaw dropped as though she’d just insulted his mother. “I guess I can’t argue with you, since you’re my CO, but can we at least agree that the egg ones are the worst?”

B’Elanna made a face. “They are the worst. Whoever thought that an egg flavored ration bar was a good idea should be dragged into the street and shot.”

“Or stuffed into a coolant conduit with nothing but egg flavored rations to eat.”

The joke wasn’t that funny, but B’Elanna began to giggle. She couldn’t stop thinking about little foil wrappers overflowing from a coolant conduit. The giggling morphed into full on laughter. “Wrappers everywhere… and the smell!” she gasped. Carey was chuckling, probably more at the spectacle she was making than at her actual words. “God, this isn’t funny, but I can’t stop.” Tears were running down her cheeks. She let her tools drop and lay back on the deck, wiping her face with her sleeves. Carey was still chuckling as she took deep breaths to bring herself under control. “Okay.” She sat up. “Alright, we need to get back to work.”

Carey nodded, picking up his tools, the occasional laugh still escaping his lips. “A chicken,” he said after they’d realigned the phase compensator, “and an egg are lying in bed. The egg is asleep. The chicken, looking angry, says, ‘Well, that answers that question.’”

It took a moment to process, but once it did, B’Elanna was back on the deck, clutching her already aching sides and gasping between fits of laughter.

Carey joined her a moment later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Capt Acorn for telling me that chicken and the egg joke.


	3. Hunters

The letters had thrown everyone off.

In a normal shift, only a few engineers didn’t finish their assigned duties. But today? One person had managed to finish their assignment. One. Not that B’Elanna was any less guilty -- as the stack of unread reports on her desk proved.   

 _Variations in the Warp Plasma Matrix_ \-- the next in the stack _._ The introduction was brief, as was Harren’s style, but the text began to blur when she hit a full page of equations, none of the variables defined. Her mind drifted, to phaser fights and Cardassians and Roberto dead on the ground…

B’Elanna tossed the PADD aside. She’d never get through the rest of the stack at this rate, and Rollins would have her ass if she didn’t turn them in on time. She needed help. Grabbing half the stack, B’Elanna went downstairs to Carey’s station.

He was leaning forward, his chin resting on the hand, absorbed with the text on his screen. As B’Elanna approached, what he was reading came into focus.

_You wouldn't believe how big the boys are now…_

Carey’s letter.

The deck plate creaked and Carey jerked around. “Chief!”

“Sorry, I’ll come back.” She stepped away, despite the reports.

“No.” Carey sighed. “I should be working, not rereading this.”

B’Elanna tried to give him a friendly smile. “I think everyone’s head is somewhere else right now.”

“Yeah, it’s just… Never mind. What can I do for you?”

B’Elanna began to ask for his help, but his expression stopped her. She’d never had a real heart to heart with Carey. Most of their interactions were pleasantries or about work or recitations of off color jokes. Nothing deeply personal. But today… She pulled out the stool next to him and sat. “It’s just what?”

His right hand twirled the gold band he wore on his left. “It’s really nothing.”

She’d uttered that line herself enough to know it was a lie. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Carey looked back at the screen. “The letter’s from Anne.” His wife. She’d written of her papers that had been accepted to prestigious journals, his eldest son, who was on the honor roll, the younger, who was a budding athlete.   

When he didn’t continue, B’Elanna spoke. “So everything’s going well?”

“Really well.” He twisted his ring again. “But I have so many questions. What was the first novel that David read? Was it _The Hobbit_ like I’d planned? How did she discover James could pitch? Does David still need his nightlight? When did he outgrow it?” Carey gestured to the letter. “She wrote me nearly ten pages, but…”

The unsaid words had been on the lips of the crew for the past day: the Alpha Quadrant was no longer frozen in time. Five-year-olds were no longer five. Fiancés had not waited. Grandchildren had been born. Loved ones had died. And it had all come to pass without those who were lost in the Delta Quadrant.Carey continued. “I thought I’d come to terms with not being there.”

 _How do you come to terms with missing your life?_ She had no answers, only platitudes. “I think all you can do is focus on how you love them and they love you.”

He turned back to the letter. “I wish…” A deep sigh. “I wish I could tell them. That I could write back and say how much they mean to me.”

“I know.” She paused. “But your kids are lucky to have you as their father. I’m sure Anne tells them every day how much you love and miss them.”

“It’s not the same.”

 _It’s more than a lot of people get._ “It will have to do.”

They were silent for a moment, the hum of the engines and the murmurs of the other engineers all that accompanied the tears welling in Carey’s eyes. He blinked rapidly before clearing his throat. “Yes, well, enough of that. You haven’t told me about your letter.”

“I didn’t get one. Must have gotten lost. Now,” she said, offering him half the stack of PADDs, “these need to be reviewed by the end of the day, and I’m swamped. Can you give me a hand?”

Carey gave her a smile. “Sure thing, Chief.”


	4. Thirty Days

The whisky burned as it slid down B’Elanna’s throat. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly out her nose.

Sandrine's was quiet tonight, though not empty. Patrons clustered at tables, voices low, the mood dark. Was it her personal storm cloud that had affected the room, or had everyone already felt like she did tonight?

She took another sip from her glass, hoping the alcohol would loosen some of the knots in her shoulders. Another night she would have gone home, had a pair of strong hands work her back. But she wouldn't see those hands for thirty days.

He’d done it. Stood up for the cause, did the right thing. And Janeway, the fucking hypocrite, had demoted him thrown him in the brig.

There was a creek of the old wood floorboards behind her. Carey.

He ordered two shots and a stout and was silent until the bartender returned. B’Elanna took another drink, feeling more lightheaded with every drop.

Carey’s order appeared. He placed one of the shots in front of her, and held up the other. “To absent friends.”

The corner of B’Elanna’s mouth twitched. “To absent friends.”

They threw back the shots. “Anything you need, B’Elanna, you let me know.”

“Thanks.”

He gestured. “We’re all over there, if you want to join.”

She took another drink. “Maybe later.”

He left her to her whisky.


	5. Human Error

B’Elanna dug her thumb into the muscle just above her left hip, but the pain shooting down her left leg didn’t abate.

Though she was the ‘guest of honor’ (or, if nothing else, carried the guest of honor), B’Elanna had slipped into the pantry of the mess hall, needing a break from the shower festivities. All the gifts, the opinions, the advice… plus, sitting on that damn sofa for so long had caused her sciatica to flare. 

She could always slip out, take a muscle relaxer, put her feet up… but that would cause more questions she didn’t want to answer.

A new scent entered the kitchen -- the brewing coffee and the spiced tea now mixed with plasma, cedar, and sage. B’Elanna didn’t like this new sensation of smelling people before she saw them, but the Doctor assured her it was all part of a normal Klingon pregnancy. B’Elanna stepped out from the pantry. “Hi, Joe.”

Joe spun around, nearly spilling the coffee he’d just poured. “Hey!” It took him a moment to realize where she’d come from, but he then gave her a knowing grin. “It’s all a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”

B’Elanna let out a wry laugh. “Just a little. If one more person tries to give me advice I didn’t ask for, I’ll rip out their vocal cords.”

“Anne hated that, too. And everyone touching her stomach. Then when they’re young, it seems like every aunt, uncle, friend -- hell, even random passersby -- has an opinion.” Carey’s smile became wistful. “Like when I let David loose on the big kids’ playground when he was only two. Man, did I ever get an earful from another father that day.”

“So, it never stops?”

Carey shook his head. “Someone is always more than willing to tell you you're a horrible parent. I found that you have to tune out everyone's advice and opinions. Just do what you and Tom think is best, and it will all turn out great.”

“That sounds like advice.”

Carey chuckled. “I suppose so. But I swear that’s the only advice I’ll ever give you. That, and to take people, like me, up on offers to babysit.”

“We will. Thank you.” A devilish grin then spread across her face. “Though you might have to fight Neelix...”

Carey scoffed. “Neelix had no idea what to do with Naomi when she was an infant! I, on the other hand, am the baby whisperer. Just ask Sam.”

B’Elanna chuckled. “I trust you.”

“There you are!” Tom interrupted from the other side of the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the mess hall. “We’re about to play the dirty diaper game: leola root edition.”

B’Elanna shared a long-suffering look with Carey. “Okay, I’m coming.” Tom headed off, and she started to follow, but Joe stopped her.

“One more thing. This one’s more a warning than advice. If you think her diaper smells bad when she’s an infant…” He paused, and then whispered, conspiratorially, “Just wait until she starts eating solid foods.”

B’Elanna hoped to all that was holy that her sense of smell had returned to normal by then. 


	6. Friendship One

B’Elanna could see a faint reflection of herself in the black polish of the torpedo casing -- her puffy eyes and a mouth that was caught in a permanent frown. She looked away, focusing on the draped United Federation of Planets flag.

She’d been here before -- standing in the dimmed mess hall with a fallen engineer. Bendera, Hogan, Kaplan… She’d given a short speech at each of their services. She was their commanding officer. It was her duty.

B’Elanna placed a hand on the torpedo casing. Words swirled in her head: how he’d stood by her side, even though she’d broken his nose. How he was always there with a helping hand or a joke. How he was a model officer and a friend. But it all sounded trite.

The mess hall doors hissed and a stream of light glinted off the casing. She knew the footfalls, the scent. Tom. The doors shut again, returning her to darkness.

“I thought you’d be at home.”

“I wanted a minute with him. Before.”

They stood in silence, staring at the casket, his arm wrapped around her. For a moment, during the hostage negotiations, B’Elanna had thought Tom had been killed. She’d heard him shout, then the whine of a disruptor…

Then the rush of relief that it was Joe Carey that had died instead.

She leaned her head against his chest. “I don’t know that I can do this. I don’t think I can get up, not without--” She stopped, fighting the tears that welled hot in her eyes.

Tom drew her into a hug. “You don’t have to.”

“I do,” she murmured into his chest. “I want to.” _I have to._ “I just don’t have the words.”

“Say what’s in your heart.”

Her heart? All that was there was rage. At how unfair it all was, that Joe’s family would never see him again. At how selfishly she’d reacted, _glad_ that it wasn’t Tom.

No, what was in her heart would never do.

Tom took her hand. “I’ll go up there with you, if that would help.”

B’Elanna pictured it, standing up there with her husband and her unborn child and all her good fortune. “No.” She tried to smile. “But thank you. I have to do this on my own.”

The doors to the mess hall slid open again. Light filled the room.

It was time.

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who made it to the end! Kudos and comments are loved and adored. 
> 
> Again, many thanks for Capt Acorn! Go read her stuff! It's the best!


End file.
